


Hold Together

by bethagain



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 00:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10262072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethagain/pseuds/bethagain
Summary: Chewie has some rituals that justmightbe keeping theFalconfrom falling apart. They're nothing he'd ever tell Han about, because he's well aware it's silly to think they make a difference.He's got no idea that Han knows all about it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a tumblr meme about connecting characters with emotions.
> 
> Thank you [thebyrchentwigges](https://thebyrchentwigges.tumblr.com/) for suggesting Chewbacca and _surprised._
> 
> Written quickly and un-beta'd, but people seemed to think it was cute, so I thought I'd share it here.

Four days ago, Chewbacca finished fixing the damper for the rear center spin control using a bit of electrical tape and an eating utensil snipped in half and pounded flat. He reattached the panel and knocked twice on it for good luck.

When the Falcon was still flying straight the next day, he did it again as he passed the spot, just in case that was why.

Each day since, when he’s passed the panel on the way to and from his bunk, he’s quickly and quietly knocked twice.

Three days ago, Chewbacca reattached the navigational antenna on the top hull. They were out of 6-centimeter screws so he stuck in some shorter ones, glued the whole thing down with epoxy that maybe wasn’t quite rated for vacuum, and added a whole lot of hope. The spot was right above the corridor to the cockpit, and when he passed under it he shot a stern look at the ceiling: You better hold together up there.

When the nav computer was still working the next day, he kept looking up each time he entered or left the cockpit, because better safe than sorry.

Two days ago, he repaired a weld on the cooking unit so it would make heat again instead of just sparks. The connectors had been fixed so many times the ends wouldn’t reach anymore, so he stuck an extra bit of wire in there, welded it to both pieces, and hoped for the best. He laid a hand on the cooktop in a quick, quiet blessing.

When Han didn’t die in an explosion the first time he tried to heat up a meal-pack, Chewie thought: better do that again, for luck.

Chewbacca has a lot of little rituals like that. Small things, probably silly, but it seems like when he remembers to do them his repairs hold together, even if he fixed the thing with spit and fur because they couldn’t afford to do it right. Or because they forgot to stock up on six-sided washers, or because Han threw that one specialized wrench at the bounty hunter they were running from, and they left both wrench and bounty hunter in the dust.

He doesn’t do these things if he knows Han’s around. Han would tease him. Even though Chewbacca is fully (and secretly) aware that Han whispers sweet nothings to the ship when he thinks his first mate can’t hear.

But then, after a quick stop on Syvon to pick up food and drop off a certain piece of unofficial cargo, suddenly Chewie’s down with the Syvonian Flu, and although humans usually only sneeze a bit, it hits Wookiees hard. He’s stuck in the medbunk for five solid days, dizzy if he tries to stand up, hallucinating little furry creatures that appear to be dancing on the ceiling while singing raunchy songs.

Han brings him broth and flatbread.

When Chewie finally staggers to his feet, the lights are dimmed in the medbay and the ship’s engines are humming quiet and smooth. Nothing’s pinging. Nothing’s knocking. No alarms are blaring.

Chewie hasn’t knocked on a panel or reminded the nav antenna to stay on the ship in five whole days. He never took his rituals all that seriously, but still. Don’t tell Han, but Chewie’s amazed the ship hasn’t fallen apart.

He makes his way down the corridor toward his own bunk, still unsteady. As he rounds the corner, he sees Han heading that way too, just passing the panel over the spin control damper. Han lifts a hand, and… knocks twice.

Chewie’s short, surprised laugh isn’t that loud but the ship is so quiet. Han turns, sees him, smiles.

“Held the ship together for you,” he says, “but I’m not sure I got them all. She’ll be glad you’re back to do it right.”


End file.
